


Lazy Days Are For Wimps

by vkusno-katsudon (xevinx)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sass, There's a surprise..., Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xevinx/pseuds/vkusno-katsudon
Summary: When Chris decides to take a lazy day off from practice, Phichit is far from impressed.





	Lazy Days Are For Wimps

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to Rain ([wolfielyall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfielyall)) for the prompt!

"Lazy days are for wimps."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Phichit stood at the end of the bed wearing nothing but thin cotton short shorts and an oversized t-shirt that Chris had picked up from his travels — bearing an anthropomorphic cup of bubble tea and the words _'Suck My Balls'_ emblazoned across its front.

Of course it was a challenge to take him seriously in that.

"Getting too old for the ice, huh, Giacometti? Can't keep up with your impossibly fit gold-medalist boyfriend?"

"Don't flatter yourself too much. Practice has been going well for this ice show and it's a Friday. So — a lazy day. No harm done."

Phichit narrowed his eyes into a scowl. " _Yes_ harm done."

Having to tear himself away from the godly comfort of Chris's body was much easier when they were suffering the injustice together. This was just plain unfair.

 _He_ didn't have the choice. Unlike his retired ~~asshole~~ boyfriend, he was right in the midst of full out preparation for the next big competition in his season, Four Continents. Thanks to the already extended run of Chris's upcoming ice show, it meant that they would be soon apart for almost a month, the longest time since they had moved in together.

It was going to be _brutal_ and they had been avoiding confronting that fact as vehemently they could.

 _"Vieil enfoiré,"_ grumbled Phichit as he pulled out a fresh set of clothes from the dresser, not at all pleased to be making the trip to the rink alone in the pre-dawn darkness.

"Wow, so in all these years _that's_ the French you've picked up, huh?"

Seriously irritated, Phichit marched off to the bathroom to take a shower —  _all alone,_ could you believe it — while Chris lay back and closed his eyes, lulled back to sleep by the white noise of the running water...

...Then promptly roused again by Phichit clattering around in the kitchen — being _purposefully_ noisy, Chris suspected, as he made himself breakfast and fed the hamsters. Ten minutes of that felt like an eternity when he just wanted to doze back off. If _he_ was an asshole, his boyfriend sure gave him good competition.

"Right, I'm off." Phichit threw a quick glare in his boyfriend's direction as he passed the bedroom on his way to the front door.

"Don't I get a kiss goodbye?" Chris asked loudly, testing his luck.

A dramatic sigh was heard from across the apartment as Phichit turned on his heels and marched over to drop a reluctant kiss on Chris's cheek. He most certainly wasn't getting one on the lips after his betrayal.

But Chris was nothing if not persistent. He swiftly raised his arms to encircle Phichit's waist from under the duvet, pulling him down half onto the bed.

"Mon chou, you're not escaping me that easily –"    

"Hey!" Phichit exclaimed, squirming — only halfheartedly — as Chris attacked his face with soft smooches. "You're not allowed to get all cute and handsy, you flake!"

When he finally broke free — well, _was released_ — from his boyfriend's grip, Phichit stood upright and cleared his throat. Composing himself, he straightened his crumpled t-shirt and folded his arms across his chest petulantly.

"See you later, honey," cooed Chris, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

_Damn him._

Phichit turned and headed for the door, muttering "Bye, wimp," as he left the bedroom.

Alright, perhaps he was being a little harsher than necessary. But Phichit had just grown so used to having Chris with him every day, right there across the ice. Cheering him on through attempts at new quads, witnessing his triumphs and picking him back up through his failures.

So he just knew that this day was gonna suck.

And suck it did.

It was well past sundown when Phichit finished with practice — he hadn't seen a single ray of sunshine all day, cooped up at the rink for almost twelve hours. His feet hurt like hell, a mess of blisters and callouses and he was exhausted to the point of barely making it through the half-hour walk home without having to stop for a rest.

All he wanted was to curl up in Chris's arms on the couch, maybe watch some shitty reality TV and cuddle the night away.

That wasn't in his fate.

He smelled the roses the moment he opened the front door. The floor was blanketed in rose petals and there were beautiful bouquets dotted around the living room. Candles everywhere. For as much as Chris was inclined towards being a hopeless romantic, he knew exactly how to devolve Phichit into a sappy mess too. He was a simple man; flowers and candles did it. He froze up only a foot inside of the threshold.

His eyes searched out his boyfriend, who was stood at the other end of the living room dressed up all nice in a tuxedo, a beautiful smile gracing his lips.

Emerging from between Chris's legs, one of the hamsters plodded over to Phichit from across the room, something tied onto her back. She had clearly — _god knows how_ — been trained to stop right at his feet until he unburdened her of the load she carried.

It was a ring. Phichit leaned down, untied the ribbon and the ring slipped right off and into in his hand. He gave it the once over, the band of white gold glinting in the candlelight, and found that both their initials were etched delicately on the inside with a heart between them.

Lifting his gaze again, Phichit stared up at the love of his life blankly. He could feel the cold weight of the ring in the centre of his upturned palm and yet still none of this felt real.

"I'm sorry I called you a wimp."

Well, that certainly wasn't the first thing Chris had expected him to say. In all honesty, he had expected a decent amount of swearing.

"Yeah..." he replied, knocked for six, "it turns out this wasn't exactly a lazy day."

Quite the opposite. Chris had been running around non-stop to get everything set up. Even with the unexpected extra few hours he had it had been a push, but he’d managed it in the end.

"No... I can see that."

Phichit looked around properly then, his mouth gaped open in shock. Yes, there were roses and candles but also so. much. more. Knowing him as he did, it shouldn't have come as any surprise to Phichit that Chris had gone above and beyond, but his breath had still been stolen by the little reminders of hallmarks of their relationship dotted around the room.

The dining table drew his attention first and foremost. He saw a homemade version of the double dinner that they had eaten on their first date, cheese fondue followed by Gaeng Daeng Gai — red chicken curry. A strange combination of both their cultures that transported Phichit right back to that wonderful night — as did the very bottle of champagne they had shared then, with an identical but full bottle beside it. _Chris had really kept that?_

Their dessert looked to be decadent pancakes doused in golden syrup and topped with berries — the room service breakfast they had shared in each other's arms after the first night they had spent together. It seemed as though that this night was going to necessitate cheating on his strict training diet. Phichit  _really_ didn't mind.

He scanned the rest of the room and nestled amongst boxes of all his favourite chocolates, he noticed a book on the coffee table. It was a big scrapbook of photos, propped up and open on a random page — just like the one that Chris had put together for him for their first anniversary, but filled with newer memories. He couldn't wait to go through it.

This whole thing was unbelievable. It was exactly what he would have wanted and more; Chris really knew him so well. As much as Phichit was a self-professed Instagram addict, there were some matters where he valued privacy — intimacy, above all. If Chris had proposed to him in a public setting he might have imploded or something. Not to mention that he couldn't bear to think that other people would be posting pictures of the event _before he could himself_. _Horrible_.

Truly astounded at the sight before him, Phichit had no idea how long they'd been stood there in an odd silence. "Chris?" he called over shakily.

"Oh, uh..." Chris had lost his train of thought. His meticulously planned, detailed speech escaped him — he was far too distracted, _captured_ by the awe in his lover’s beautiful dark eyes as they took in everything around him. "Phichit, I love you so much."

"I love you too... oh my god, oh my god, oh my _fucking god, fuck fuck fuck_..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his hands at his sides as an outlet for the nervous energy coursing through his body.

And there was the swearing.

Chris knew exactly how to calm his boyfriend's nerves; he walked over to where he was stood and took Phichit's empty hand in his own, squeezing it tightly.

"I never expected to find something as wondrous as what we share. You're everything to me, babe. _Everything_. I hope you know that because you've changed my life and this –" he gestured to everything around them "– is long overdue."

At that, Chris kneeled and it tipped Phichit over the edge right into being completely overwhelmed to the point where he couldn't even speak. _Holy fuck,_ his heart was racing as if ready to burst out of his chest and his vision blurred with tears of unadulterated joy.

"As you pointed out this morning, I have reached the ripe old age of thirty. And I would love above everything to spend the remainder of my... _numbered years_ in your company."

Trust Chris to given even the most heartfelt proposal a lighthearted side. It was still unimaginably romantic though, silly but perfect. Just like their relationship.

"You're the best thing to happen to me and I just can't ever let you go. I can't even think about it. I need you _forever_."

"Wh– Why today?"

Phichit's mind raced. For all the throwbacks to the course of their relationship, it definitely wasn’t the anniversary of any of their first times: kiss, date or... _anything else_. This was totally, one hundred percent out of the blue.

"Why not?" Chris countered with a shrug. He then proceeded to lost himself in the depths of those gorgeous inky eyes before him, intent glimmering in his own. "Phichit Chulanont, khun ca tæ̀ngngān kạb c̄hạn h̄ịm?"

Chris sincerely hoped that the time spent on Skype with Phichit's family coaching him to say that one phrase hadn't gone to waste. Meanwhile Phichit didn't have the heart to jokily correct Chris’s subpar Thai pronunciation as he usually did; the intended meaning of his words rang through loud and clear and that was all that mattered.

Phichit pulled Chris up by their joined hands, his other balled into a tight fist with the ring inside. They met in a messy but passionate kiss, foreheads bumping and tears finally spilling over their eyelids. As they grinned like idiots against each other's lips, their chests heaved in a mixture of laughter and relief.

"There's nothing I could want more in the world." 

**Author's Note:**

> vieil enfoiré = old bastard  
> khun ca tæ̀ngngān kạb c̄hạn h̄ịm? = will you marry me?


End file.
